


9 pm on Christmas Eve

by HopeS_park



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, did you see the ending coming?, domestic sheith, i had the idea in the evening and i am sorry, keith is somewhat of a brat, mentions of aggression, subtitle: a very shitty christmas, turns dark way too fast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 11:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16722480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeS_park/pseuds/HopeS_park
Summary: At 9 pm on Christmas Eve, Keith and Shiro were supposed to be having a fancy dinner. They weren't supposed to be here.





	9 pm on Christmas Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I wrote this on two days and my friend really hates me since I told her about the idea. I kind of hate myself, too. But this kind of wrote itself. And now here it is.

**The day of Christmas Eve, 4:25 am**

Shiro glares at his beeping alarm clock, contemplating whether he truly needs the job. It's not the first time he thought about quitting - it's simply one of many. 

Next to him, a warm body stirs. When that body presses up against his own, Shiro can feel Keith in all his morning glory, because his husband-to-be didn't bother to put on any clothes before he went to sleep last night. 

"Shiro, seriously, _turn that off_." Keith's voice is an icy muttering. And honestly, Shiro shouldn't be amused, expect he is. Usually Keith is the morning person in their relationship. 

"Hey, Keith," Shiro says, after he's leaned over to turn off the irritating alarm. He gets a "huuuuuuh...?" in response and decides to continue. "Would you mind if we spent the next two months living off of ramen and drip-bag coffee? I really don't feel like going to work today."

Keith's answer is immediate. It's fast and - almost - painless. He kicks Shiro out of the bed. 

For a second, Shiro is taken aback. He simply sits on the floor, the thick blanket slowly sliding into his lap. Then he looks over to where Keith has just turned onto his back, his eyes still comfortably closed. 

"You betrayed me," he whispers in the most theatric voice he has to offer. 

Keith nods. "Yes, I did," he replies, now cracking open an eye to look at Shiro. "You better go take a shower first. You still smell like me." And then, as if that stupid alarm clock never rang in the first place, he is back to sleep and Shiro is left with the cold and utter realization that it is 4 am on the day of Christmas Eve and he has to go to work. 

**6 am**

No, it does not take Shiro one and a half hours to take a shower. It actually takes five minutes to take a shower, but about ten minutes to de- and reattach his prosthetic. Normally Keith helps him and they manage it in two, but because his fiancé is being a little brat, he somehow has to manage on his own. 

And he does, because he's managed living on his own for the past five years. 

So it doesn't take him one and a half hours to take a shower. But it takes him about thirty minutes to prepare and about another forty minutes to eat breakfast. Shiro is the type who leaves out lunch - mostly because he is too stressed to think about taking a lunch break - but will make up for it with an ample breakfast and dinner. 

By now it's six and Shiro just finished putting the used dishes (five plates and two mugs) into the dishwasher and the door opens to reveal Keith. He looks actually more alive than Shiro feels, which is probably natural. Keith is the stay-at-home. Keith is the one who isn't facing an awful lot of work at a very busy office with a very strict boss and yup, Shiro wants to quit. 

"You know, I don't have the slightest slice of motivation," he grumbles while Keith strides over to their expensive coffee maker. Except Keith never uses it for plain coffee but fancy drinks like mocha, americano or even chai. 

As he inserts a chai pad into the lid and takes a mug out of the cupboard - it's a red one that says 'warrior pose' in bold letters and has a black lion printed beneath it - Keith looks over to Shiro. "You know, you don't actually have to go there. I told you, you should have taken the day off." There's not an ounce of pity in his voice, which is so Keith that it actually makes Shiro smile. Just a little. 

"And I told you, if I take today off Allura will either chop off my other arm or not pay me for the entirety of January." He makes a pouty face while staring at his watch. "I don't really know what's worse."

"Obviously the arm." Keith's setting the mug down on the table and then motions for Shiro to scoot over on the bench seat.

"Oh, what, really?" Shiro's not the best at sarcasm, but he thinks he's doing a decent job. Besides, Keith's used to it by now. 

"Yeah. I mean, that prosthetic was expensive." When Shiro stares at him in utter disbelief, he bursts out laughing. "Obviously I'm joking. _Duh_."

Shiro flicks him off. "You better be." Then he grabs Keith's legs and turns him so that he can get up from the corner seat. Standing in the doorframe, he pauses to look back at Keith. "I'll leave in ten minutes. You good?"

Keith nods. "Yeah. I'll try and get dinner ready." He gives Shiro a thumbs-up, which looks an awful lot like he wants to motivate himself. 

Shiro grins and then makes a quick stop at the bathroom. When he comes out again to grabs his keys from where they are hanging next to the door and then moves to say goodbye, he hears a shout from the kitchen. It's followed by the distinct clatter of a frying pan hitting the floor. 

" _Fuck!_ "

Perhaps it is a little paranoid how Shiro basically runs into the kitchen. And yes, he does not necessarily have to cradle Keith's face in his hands and look him up and down. But something in him tells him to act like that. So why fight it?

"Are you alright?" he asks, checking for injuries. 

Keith simply shoos his hands away and then bends to grab the frying pan. "I'm good. My hands were just...slippery." He sighs. "At this rate, I'll never get dinner done. At least not alive."

It's not that Shiro was holding his breath. No. "Maybe we can just go for takeout?"

Keith arches a brow. "Did you just take away my permission to cook?"

"Not technically." Shiro scratches the back of his head. "It's just. I really need to get going and I don't know whether I completely trust you with...surviving."

As soon as he's said this, Keith puts away the spatula he'd been holding. He turns to face Shiro and, despite the fact that it makes him look utterly adorable, gets on his tiptoes. "Listen here, oldtimer. I am 21 years old and I am perfectly capable of cooking a dinner for two. I will not lose the fight against the kitchen utensils." 

Somewhere between 'cooking' and 'fight' Keith had started poking his finger into Shiro's chest. With a grin spreading across his face, Shiro lifts his hands in defeat and chuckles. "Yeah, yeah. I trust you and you've got this." He picks up the keys he dropped in his rush. "Just saying but, who set our toaster on fire?"

Keith shoots him a glare as he starts wiping the pan with a piece of oil soaked paper towel. "That was one time."

"Of course it was one time, you never again used the toaster afterwards," Shiro laughs. 

"I'll throw the egg!" Keith warns, without looking at him. 

Shiro isn't actually scared of his fiancé. Because that would be ridiculous. But he does take one or two steps back. Just for safety. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"You wouldn't," Shiro drawls, wrapping his arms around Keith's waist from behind, "Since we both know that I am the one indulging you, you wouldn't dare."

Keith squirms in his embrace, but Shiro knows it's only for good measure. "I can go a month without Gucci."

At that, Shiro leans in to press a kiss to Keith‘s nape. He lovingly tucks away strands of long black hair before putting his lips on pale skin. "Of course you can." This is supposed to sound sarcastic, but as Shiro's said before, he is bad at it. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks before pulling away to give Keith some room. 

He turns around, still gripping the spatula tight. As if his life depended on it. "Yeah," he replies and already leans up the few inches between them to kiss Shiro. 

Rather, it‘s a peck to the lips. Anyways, Shiro needs to get going, so maybe a peck is a good idea, after all. 

"See you later. I'll try to make it home early!" he calls over his shoulder while jogging to the entrance door. 

Before the door closes behind him, he thinks he can hear Keith's faint voice from the kitchen, saying, "I love you, Shiro."

He doesn't get to reply. Not until much later. 

**7 am**

Even at 7am on December 24, Seattle is one rainy city. In retrospect, Shiro still isn't sure why they spent a bunch of money on an apartment in Seattle, rather than a cozy beach house on the west coast. Then again, Keith doesn't like summer or warm places. And Shiro, who only came to the US about two years ago, is still attuned to East-Japanese weather. Meaning, there isn't actually a season he cannot adapt to. 

Basically it was up to Keith. Shiro had told him that they'd go anywhere he wanted to go. Long story short, they had ended up in Seattle. 

Shiro didn't mind rain. But there was something annoying about it, if it was what you saw for the bigger half of the year. 

When he pulled into the company‘s parking lot, he didn't bother covering his head while making a sprint for the entrance. 

Romelle at the reception, where she's been since Shiro started at the company, waves and offers him a towel. He declines, as he does every time. Because frankly, by now he should be clever enough to bring his own towel along. 

His office is on the twelfth floor, right across Hunk's and sandwiched between the storage room and the kitchen. The funny thing is, this is the office he got after the promotion. 

He does miss his old one. 

Hunk's office door stands wide open and when Shiro passes by, he waves at him. "Mornin' Shiro! Your server‘s up, but there's like twenty unread messages." Hunk makes a pitying face. "One is from Allura."

Shiro sighs. Of course it is. "Thanks, Hunk." And then he closes the door and hopes that this day will pass quickly. 

**11:47 am**

His phone rings. That's the first good thing that has happened today. Because it‘s not the office‘s phone, but his private one. And it's Keith calling. 

"Hey, babe."

"You sound too casual for somebody who has just ignored twenty-two text messages from his fiancé," Keith says and Shiro can hear the kitchen hood‘s noise in the background. 

"That many?" He runs a hand through his white forelock. "I'm sorry. I was so busy, and then Allura's mail and Coran asked me to check on the reviews and basically I had to book the next show‘s location because Lance called in sick and..."

He trails off when Keith heaves a sigh. "Could you stop? I'm actually starting to feel sorry for you."

Shiro heaves a laugh. "Then maybe I should tell you about the absolute mess Matt's caused by booking the wrong model."

" _Shiro_." Keith doesn't exactly sound amused, so Shiro decides to cut it. 

"Why are you calling, anyways?" Shiro grins. "Did you set our kitchen on fire?"

"No?" Keith replies and it sounds so much like a question that Shiro is seriously considering leaving work early today. "But it is about dinner," Keith continues, "So I may have just noticed that I am running low on ingredients."

The door opens and reveals Hunk, who is holding a gigantic folder of documents. Shiro holds up a finger to motion for him to wait a second. "So?" he says into his phone. "Why call me?"

"Because it's raining like shit outside and you're the only one of us with a valid driver's license." Keith sounds just slightly pissed. "I texted you the recipe. Can't you be a good fiancé? Just once?"

Shiro tries hard to not get offended. "We literally have five umbrellas at home. The supermarkets not even a mile away. _Walk_." He's about to hang up - mostly because Hunk looks very annoyed - when Keith interjects, "I almost got killed the day before yesterday!"

"Because you never stop to look at a cross-walk," Shiro mumbles. 

"Why should I?" It sounds like Keith's turning off the oven and Shiro can imagine him balancing the phone between his shoulder and his ear. "It‘s a _cross-walk_ , Shiro! The drivers are supposed to stop."

"Look, I am not having this conversation again. Stop being a brat and move your pretty ass outta the apartment." Shiro can't say he's angry. He thinks irritated is a better choice of words. 

He feels the desire to hang up dramatically (Seriously, who ever decided flip-phones were out of fashion?), when a stretching silence on the other end makes him pause. His heart cracks a little, because he's sure what he‘s just heard was a sob. And really, he did not mean to make the love of his life sob on Christmas. 

"I'm sorry. I love you, Takashi."

It's everything he hears before Keith hangs up on him. And suddenly it feels like the world comes crashing down upon him and it feels like the end of the world, and Shiro is miserable and just wants this day to end. 

**7:57 pm**

Thanks to Lance not showing up at work, his day has been way longer than Shiro feared it'd be. 

Now he is about two miles from his and Keith‘s apartment and is silently practicing apologies. Maybe he was an asshole. What would it haven taken him to go and buy the groceries? Right, absolutely nothing. Instead he made Keith feel bad. On Christmas. Way to go, Shiro. 

He sighs, pulling up into the parking garage. He shoulders his bag, locks the car and walks his walk of shame to the elevator. 

When he opens the door of the flat, he comes home to silence. He can't find Keith. Not in the kitchen, not in their gaming room, not in the living room. His keys are also gone. 

A creeping hunch overcomes him. 

To check it, he goes into their bedroom and opens Keith's side of the closet. And he was right. Keith has gone for a run. Somehow that does nothing to soothe the aching in his heart, because Keith always goes for a run when he is feeling distressed. As long as Shiro's known him, it's always been Keith‘s way of coping with aggressions and bottled up feelings. 

Knowing that Shiro is the reason Keith is feeling that way does nothing to soothe his aching. 

He sighs. For the first in a long time, he feels dark thoughts creeping up on him. He shoos them away and instead makes his way to the kitchen to check up on the groceries. 

It seems Keith didn't go shopping, after all. He doesn't blame him. 

And so he goes to pick up his keys and decides to make up for earlier. 

**9 pm**

Yes, it took Shiro an hour to buy groceries. Mostly because he has no idea what kind of cheese you need for a cheese fondue and he cannot possibly call Keith. 

So now he's sitting in his car, driving home and it's late and dark and it has started raining again. 

Shiro now blames himself for the fact that he drove to the supermarket that's further away, but he had wanted to shop in advance. And besides, he had a car. But now, driving through this shitty weather, he wishes he had simply chosen the closer shop. 

At least the radio station's playing good music. He reaches over to turn up the volume and that's the moment it happens. The moment he will never forget. 

Because he is passing across a cross-walk and there‘s a person making to walk across it. And that person is jogging and they do not stop to watch out for any approaching cars. 

And it's happening so fast and it's raining and perhaps Shiro's eyes are playing tricks on him - God he hopes they do. Because that person is wearing Keith's favorite track pants and the bright red sneakers that Shiro always hoped he'd throw away. 

And shortly before it happens, the person turns to look at him. Amethyst eyes are opened wildly in what must be shock. There's a flicker of recognition in them and something that looks like tears. 

Shiro hits the brakes in the same instant that he knows it will be too late. Because it‘s raining. Because the street is slippery. Because he is about to hit Keith. 

_"Because you never stop to look at a cross-walk." - "Why should I? It‘s a cross-walk, Shiro! The drivers are supposed to stop."_

And then they collide and Shiro imagines he can hear the cracking of bones. Except maybe it's not just his imagination and suddenly he feels sick. He's throwing up before he knows it, cold sweat dripping down his spine and it might as well be rain, because he is outside his car, moving ever so slowly, as if he could somehow avoid what he is about to see. 

There's blood. Or maybe it's dirt. Shiro can't really tell with how dark it is.

He knows he should be calling the police. The ambulance. _Somebody_. Never mind, he should be doing _something_.

A whimper pulls him out of his trance. It's so unmistakably Keith that Shiro feels another wave of sickness wash over him. 

" _Takashi..._ "

Keith's voice is hoarse and it‘s awful, but it almost sounds like it does when he wakes up in the morning. It's how he sounded this morning. And seriously, did this day even have a morning? It simply feels like it's been going on forever. 

"I'm here," he whispers, because he doesn't know what else to respond. He falls onto his knees. He reaches out to brush Keith's bangs out of his forehead. When he pulls away, his hand is stained with blood. 

"I should stop at cross-walks, I really should," Keith is saying and then he coughs and he coughs up blood and then he's still and he doesn't move. 

 

And perhaps this is the end of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know whether I really want Keith to be dead here. Maybe I'll write a sequel one day...? 
> 
> Maybe. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated :))


End file.
